


A Rose

by casstayinmyass



Category: American Revolution RPF, Beauty and the Beast (2017), Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: 17th Century, Alternate Universe - American Revolution, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - War, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Based On A Historical Relationship, Based On An Episode Of Turn, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Relationship, Gaston (Disney) Being an Asshole, Gaston (Disney) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Historical References, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love Letters, Non-Consensual Kissing, Romance, Sexual Content, Soldier Adam, Soldier Gaston, Tragic Romance, True Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 00:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11566716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Belle St. Marie, an artist's daughter, and Adam Bête, an esteemed Major in the King's army, want nothing more than to get married, despite Adam's father's wishes- but instead of eloping, they think up an alternative plot involving an arrogant General Belle knew in her schooling days, Gaston Deveneaux.Some plans change drastically, and soon, Adam finds he may face a fate far worse than losing Belle... can they reach each other before the last petal falls?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wooah a batb fic from me that's not Gafou???? Weeeird. 
> 
> So this is based on a subplot of the show, "Turn: Washington's Spies." This romantic subplot is pretty historically inaccurate, but it's literally the best thing ever. Basically, you don't have to know history or have any idea what Turn is to like or understand this story lol, but if you do know it:
> 
> Belle is Peggy Shippen  
> Adam is John Andre  
> Gaston is Benedict Arnold  
> Lefou is Ben Tallmadge  
> Stanley is Caleb Brewster  
> Lumiere is Lafayette  
> Plumette is Abigail  
> Cogsworth is Hamilton???? essentially??? 
> 
> I just thought the resemblance of the characters was similar, so I put myself through writing this!

The fire crackled in the hearth as Belle groaned softly. Adam's fingers were carefully massaging her breasts, the other hand caressing her neck as he rocked into her.

"Beautiful..." he muttered against her skin, trailing his lips down, and Belle scrambled for purchase, digging her nails into his back as he drove in again. She hissed out his name, as quietly as she could, and Adam let out a grunt, kissing her sloppily up until he reached her lips again, the tip of her button nose brushing his. Her small legs were around his back, and he fit perfectly between them as their skin burned with both the heat between them and that from the fire. Her hands found his sizeable biceps, and squeezed as they both neared completion.

"I love you," she chanted, "Adam, I lo-ove you, oh..."  

"How's that?" he murmured, changing angles a little. Belle's mouth fell open, forehead beading with sweat, and she tossed her head back into the pillow, eyes squeezing shut.

"That's... _wonderful_."

Her mouth formed an O as she came, and Adam watched her with a hungry gaze, as watching her finish always tipped him over the edge. He pulled out just in time to release over her thigh.

She gasped a couple of times for air, and Adam stroked her face until she had come down from the sensation- every time with Belle it was like making love to someone who had yet to lose her virtue, and Adam loved it- her wonder and innocence, yet mystifying power over him and any man she encountered.

"You alright?" he mumbled into her chest. Belle giggled, and nodded, pushing his head up to look at him.

"Get off, darling, you're crushing me."

"Oh-" he muttered, but that just made her laugh harder.

"I'm joking. But yes, you can get off now."

Adam smiled deviously, and nipped at her collarbone once more with a playful growl before rolling over. They fell into a comfortable spooning position, Adam behind her as Belle reached over to grab something.

"Look at this," she said, pulling a letter out.

"Oh... who's it from?" Adam asked, peppering small kisses all over her petite freckled back.

"Gaston Deveneaux," Belle replied, an unmistakable edge to her voice.

"The... general from the continental army?" Adam frowned. "I met him once... rather imposing fellow. Why would he be writing you letters?" He looked around, eyes widening as he lowered his voice conspiratorially. _"Did your father join the rebels?"_  

"God no, silly," the brunette rolled her eyes, pressing the letter into his chest, "He despises the colonies. Small and primitive he calls them. Could you imagine my father carrying a bayonet anyway?"

"No, I can't say I can," Adam remarked, staring off into the distance. He took the letter in hand, and opened it.

" _I waste away nightly thinking of you_ ," the Major read aloud in a husky, rough voice that was supposed to be mimicking Gaston. "Oh, and look at this, he spelled nightly wrong."

"Don't be cruel," Belle muttered as he stroked her hair, though she couldn't deny it was amusing. Gaston had vied for her affections ever since they had gone to preparatory school in Boston together; he had been enamoured with her, but before she had had any chance to properly reject his rather insistent attempts to court her, her father had moved them promptly back to Britain, where they had come from, and Gaston had gone off to fight in the Seven Years War, bringing home a purple heart for saving an entire village.

Now, three years into the Revolutionary War, Belle had since found herself introduced to Major Adam Bête, an eloquent, cultured man whom she was instantly attracted to. After making eyes at him and dancing for a night, they couldn't get enough of each other...

"What's wrong?" Adam smirked, playing with a lock of Belle's hair, "I thought you disliked the man."

"I do," Belle murmured, tracing her fingers down the letter, "Anyway, it's quite hopeless for him, really. I'll write a rejection tomorrow."

"Mmm," Adam hummed as he tugged Belle's wrist. She lifted her eyebrows, but complied with his suggestion, leaning her naked back into his chest. They returned their lips to one another, kissing softly again and again as their movements became lazier. Then, Belle pulled away, hair falling loosely around Adam's face.

"I have to go," she whispered, taking the Major's hands off of her hips, "My father will be missing me."

His blue eyes were disappointed, but he realized she was right. Pulling the covers off of himself, he got up as well, and put some breeches and a shirt on.

"Belle... we shouldn't have to say goodbye."

"I know," she replied, looking back, "I would give anything to stay with you. Every night."

"To be my wife?" he asked, and Belle got on her knees by him, taking his hands.

"Of course." There was hope in his eyes, which inspired some in her as well.

"There must be a way." Adam's father disapproved of any marriage to someone from the middle to lower class- Belle wasn't lower class, but she wasn't a lady of the courts either.

The brunette thought for a moment, pulling on her underclothes and a satin nightgown, then looked up cautiously. "Would you... elope with me?"

"Elope?" he breathed, "But... my position-"

"You would keep your position," she assured, "But your father wouldn't interfere."

"Where would we go?"

"Anywhere. You can live with us. My father won't mind, he keeps to himself."

"Belle, I have a household to maintain..." Adam mumbled, then thought it over. It was a tantalizing idea, it really was, but- "Wait," he suddenly said, getting _that_ look in his eyes- the dangerously excitable look that told Belle he had thought of something brilliant... or something foolish. "Let me see that letter."

Belle was both confused and apprehensive, but she handed it over. Adam's eyes darted down the page anxiously.

"My dearest Belle, blah blah blah, always loved you, blah blah blah, books are very nice, yada yada, _marriage proposal_ , here it is!" he put a finger down on the paper. "This is perfect."

"What?!" Belle scowled, snatching the paper back, "How is it perfect?" She blew hair out of her eye, laughing. "I'd never marry that boorish, brainless oaf."

"You won't have to," Adam smiled, taking her hands in his again, "You see, here's what we'll do, Belle... you accept his proposal-"

" _Adam_!"

"Just hold on," the blonde reassured, eyes wide, "You accept it while I use my influence on the battlefield. We can end this war in a month, at most, with my tactical prompting of taking Monmouth. Then, once the war is over and the land is won, I'll be hailed as a hero! Lands will be handed to me, _castles_ even, we won't even have to elope- and I'll be free to choose whomever I wish to marry me."

"Adam..." Belle repeated uneasily, "I don't have a good feeling about this." She paced by the fireplace, growing more and more repulsed by the idea by the second. " _Accept_ his proposal?" She made a face. "Madame Gaston, can't you just see it? His little wife," she growled, making a little bonnet with Adam's shirt. She shook her head, tearing it off. "No way. Not me. I want so much more than that."

"Belle, you're not going to marry him! You're simply going to give him false hope- hold it off until we can be together again."

"Adam, you don't know Gaston like I do- he'll want to have the ceremony arranged immediately, holding off on the wedding will be nearly impossible."

"But you do impossible things every day, my love," Adam whispered, stroking her cheek, "You never fail to amaze me." She blushed a little, and he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "My god, I love you. More than you could know."

"And I you," she sighed, her eyes closing.

"All I want is for us to be happy together. I know we'd be happy anywhere we went, but..." He let out a frustrated sigh. "I just want to give you an easy life. You _and_ your father." Belle thought of Maurice, and how he was getting on in years... it had proved difficult for her to get work, and that wasn't likely to change in the near future for any women- what would she do when he was too old to support them?

She wanted nothing more than to be with Adam, right now. A month was far too long, especially one spent with a man she disliked more than Washington himself. He was on the opposite side of the war not to mention, which would mean she would have to interact with all of Gaston's army comrades joined in a cause she didn't believe in.

"I know you can do it," Adam grazed her chin with his thumb, coaxing her back out of her thoughts, "You're the strongest person I know. And I know a lot of strong men." He cracked a smile, and Belle's heart lifted a little. She never wanted to see that smile leave his face.

"Alright," she whispered. "I'll do it." Relief washed over Adam's face.

They got up, and shared one last passionate kiss before Belle put her cloak on, turning the hood up.

"Wait, Belle," he murmured, and looked around the foyer. She quirked her head with a small smile. "My housekeeper... Plumette. She told me her husband lives in Paris now."

"Oh?" Belle lifted an eyebrow, "Lumiere?"

"Yes. But you see, they've never been married formally, by a priest or anyone," he continued, "So before he left, they simply said to one another, 'we are married.' And it just... was."

Belle smiled, reaching up to cup Adam's cheeks. He was every bit as handsome as the day she had danced with him at that party... still had the same clear blue eyes.  

"We are married," she told him softly, committing every inch of his face to memory. A month had never seemed so long to her. 

"We are married," he echoed, and dipped down to kiss her once more with fervor. Belle felt a single tear roll down her cheek as she thought of leaving him, being so far away from him. He wiped it away, and picked something up out of a vase. "Here..." he handed her a single rose. "Keep it. So you can look back on me- until we meet again. I promise you," he kissed her hands again, "Certain as the sun rising in the east- we will be together again by the time the last petal falls."

"Adam," she breathed as she accepted the rose, then stopped herself. She had to stay strong. For the cause... and for them, if this was going to work. With one last sure glance and a mournful gaze from Adam, she hurried down the dark staircase out into the night.

As he watched her dark cloak disappear away from the mansion and back into the city, the Major let out a gasp of breath, taken aback by the onslaught of emotion. He was possessive, there was no doubt, and he hated the idea of his Belle in someone else's arms... especially someone like Gaston... but he had to keep telling himself it was temporary.

_Then once the war was won, she could be with him, for evermore._

* * *

A week later, Belle was in a carriage from British-occupied New York to rebel-occupied Philadelphia to meet her suitor again. Gaston was an esteemed general amongst the patriots, and he had arranged for much fanfare when she arrived, after he had heard of her acceptance. She watched out the window, her father beside her.

"I have to say, I'm pleased you accepted such a good man's proposal," Maurice smiled. He set aside the cane he used, and covered her hand with his own. Maurice despised violence of any kind, but he had fought in the Seven Years war, just as Gaston had, and was wounded in his right leg from it. He had a limp, but the war, thankfully, hadn't broken his lovable, eccentric spirit like it had so many others.

Belle let out a wistful sigh. Her papa had no idea Gaston was as horrible as he was, and he only wanted what was best for his daughter.

"Yes, papa," she smiled back, "It helps that I knew him all those years back in school."

"Right!" Maurice beamed, then he got dead serious. "You must remember, though- you'll always be so much more than the wife of a hero. My little girl must only be seen for her own accomplishments- not the accomplishments of her husband."

Belle gave a genuine smile at this. She loved her father so much.

"Oh, there he is now."

They both looked out the carriage windows to see Gaston waiting in his uniform by the steps of the manor they would be living in together. He had on a tri-fold hat, and his hands were behind his back.

"Yes, he's a proud fellow," Maurice nodded in respect to Gaston's stature.

"You have no idea," Belle mumbled under her breath, and they got out.

"Belle!" Gaston grinned right away, and made his way over excitedly. He looked ready to sweep her off her feet, but quickly remembered propriety. "Eh, I mean... my lady. It's my pleasure to receive you here in Philadelphia." He shoved a bouquet of flowers in her face, and she held back a sputter.

"T-the honour's mine, Gaston," she smiled properly, accepting the flowers and holding out a hand for him to kiss. Once formalities were out of the way, he took her by the arm.

"Please, come this way... we have much to discuss."

Belle followed into the manor, which was spacious and lovely indeed, until they reached the sitting room.

"I must say, I'm pleased you finally accepted my advances," Gaston said, still smiling. "I knew you'd give in one day. You know, I used to think you were _mad_ for not wanting me!"

Belle managed to force a smile back. "Oh, I was only playing hard to get. I hope you know that." The words made her sick, but she kept Adam's memory in her mind as she spoke every one.

"Of course," Gaston shrugged off, admiring himself in a nearby mirror as he talked, "And that only made you more appealing to me. You didn't make a fool of yourself to gain my favour."

"Right," Belle sighed. "Well, Philadelphia is bustling. Very loud, and busy."

"Isn't it?" Gaston let out a happy sigh. "Like being back in battle!"

Belle blinked. "Aaaand, this house is lovely too."

"Mmm, perfect place to raise children, isn't it?" he hummed, snaking a hand around her waist with a smile. "And we'll have six or seven."

"W-what are you-"

"When shall we be married?" Gaston cut in. "I was thinking within the fortnight. Sooner the better, no point in prolonging it when you obviously can't wait to become my wife! You know you're not really living until you see yourself reflected in someone's eyes."

Belle opened her mouth, raising her eyebrows. "And, you see yourself reflected in mine?"

"Oh yes," he breathed deeply, grinning. "We're both _fighters_!"

Belle felt ready to throw up. "Eh heh... Gaston..." she cleared her throat, "You have no idea how desperate I am to get married, but..."

He looked away from the mirror, frowning. "But?" He advanced on her, placing a hand by her head on the mantle.

"But," Belle grimaced, thinking up something as she was trapped between him and the wall. "I want to wait for a summer wedding!"

 "That's months away," Gaston frowned even deeper.

"I know, but..." Belle searched for something else, "My father's awfully sick, and he wants to be in good health and spirits for our, ehm... happy day."

"Well, that's reasonable, but-"

"And I would like to wait until I can invite all my friends," Belle added quickly. "They live overseas in France, you see. It would take them quite the journey to get here."

"Belle," Gaston began to growl, perplexed. He looked angry already, and Belle wondered what else she could do. Then she realized what Gaston had been after all this time, other than a pretty bride to show off...

Her insides twisted up even more at the thought, but it was a genius way to keep Gaston at bay. _Adam. All for Adam._

"Remember," she murmured, placing a hand on his chest, "We don't have to wait until our wedding day..." she trailed a little lower, "To enjoy our wedding night."

The handsome man smirked, anger melting away. "I'm sure you simply can't wait to get me into bed, can you?" he asked, flexing his large biceps a little.

Belle had to bite her tongue hard not to tell him to go fuck himself. "No, Gaston, I can't. All these years of playing hard to get- it's been eating me up inside, thinking of you." Gaston stared down at the petite young woman, lust already apparent in his face as he gazed at her lips.

"I suppose nobody has to know," he rasped, and captured her lips. Belle squeezed her eyes shut, tightening her fists as well as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His lips were rough on hers, too rough, as if he were an animal ripping the petals off a delicate flower.

Belle nearly cried out that night as he brought her to the bed, pushing her down and bunching up her skirts. She reached into the pocket she kept as she heard Gaston's belt buckle being undone.

_It must be done. For Adam. You'll  be with him soon. It's only for a month. Only a month. Then you'll get your happily ever after._

Belle envisioned Adam behind her as Gaston's fingers roughly seized her body. There were nights when she wanted Adam hard, wanted his beastly side to come out, so she just imagined this was that. But Gaston... _felt_ different. It just wasn't right- not at all- but Belle knew this would pay off in the end. She was strong, like Adam had said. She could withstand anything.

As her body shook with the bed and each deep thrust of Gaston's, her eyes filled with tears- and she gripped the rose in one fist, a single petal falling to the bedroom floor.

 


	2. Chapter 2

One week later, Belle St. Marie- or Deveneaux, as she was now getting used to- was attending parties, as the talk of the northern colonies. The new wife of Gaston Deveneaux was the most beautiful woman in America- people had to see her to believe it.

"Ahh, you must be Belle," a tall, lanky young man with excellent posture and two curls in his hair smiled at her, kissing her hand. "Enchante, mon chou." His waistcoat was pink against crisp white, and Belle could easily say he was the best dressed there.

"Stanley, this is my bride to be," Gaston introduced. He looked around. "Where's Lefou?" Lefou was the only other person in the room who had fought in the Seven Years War at Gaston's side, so he had also seen battle.

"He is by the refreshments," Stanley nodded, "I will fetch him." Soon, he came back with a shorter, plump man with rosy cheeks and a bright smile.

"Hello," he greeted, taking her hand and clasping his over it. His voice was high, almost feminine sounding with the little trill he had in it. He made no move to kiss her hand as Stanley had, but the cheer in his eyes made up for it. Belle could immediately tell there was something different about him- about both him and Stanley both, really- she recognized the looks they gave each other. While Gaston and everyone else seemed particularly oblivious to them, they gazed at each other as if they were the entire world. It made Belle ache for Adam.

"Well, you've landed a great catch, Mademoiselle," Lefou grinned, "I've known him his whole life, and through the last war- Gaston's one hell of a guy." When she didn't immediately return the smile, a flicker of concern went through his gaze, but Gaston smirked again.

"Yes, and she knows it, Lefou."

Belle feigned a wide smile, and nodded.

"So," Lefou turned to Gaston, flipping his curls over one shoulder and pursing his lips rather flamboyantly, "Has Washington paid you yet?"

Gaston scowled. "Of course not. He thinks he can exploit a hero like me... congress too, the bunch of idiots. I'll show them that I'm the most valuable member of their army."

Belle inclined her head to listen further, but they said no more on the matter that night.

She continued to play her part, the friendly charming young lady by day, letting Gaston have his way with her by night... she yearned for her love.

Then late one evening, an idea came to her in the dark.

Gaston shifted beside her, leg twitching a little. Belle had observed he would get this way some nights- sometimes he would mumble in his sleep, other times he would shake and wake up in a cold sweat, speaking of gunfire. He must be one of the unfortunate soldiers who returned from the last war changed men. She would pity him, but he had done nothing to warrant such empathy from her, so she couldn't quite bring herself to.

"My dear," she said softly, rousing Gaston from a sleep gently. His shirt was open, and she  smoothed her hand over the damp skin there. He startled awake.

"Hm?" His eyes darted. "Belle? What is it...?"

"Where do you keep your paper?"

"What?" he frowned, sitting up a little. "Why would you need paper this late at night?"

"My... friend!" she thought fast, "You know, the one who wishes to attend my wedding? I'd like to write to her and ask where she is."

He groaned. "Can't this wait until morn-"

"No!" Belle cried, and Gaston glared at her.

"You're just as stubborn as I remember." He exhaled, tugging the blankets up again. "Fine. Paper's in the desk. Quill's there too."

"Thank you," she pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and got out of bed, hurrying over. Once she was sure he had fallen back asleep with the loud snored she could hear, she grabbed the supplies and hurried out to the sitting room, lighting a candle.

_My dearest Adam,_

_I think of you day and night. I can't bare his hands on me, but when they are, I dream of you._

Belle checked over her shoulder, just in case.

_That is why I write- I know a way we could end this even sooner._

She grinned as she dipped her quill in the inkwell again.

_Gaston's been fretting over a matter of money he hasn't been paid. I could, if I tried very hard, attempt to woo him to our side- and convince him to give us the map to very important military stronghold named West Point._

_I've heard him speak of it, Adam- it could end the war immediately, and we'd be together again._

_Yours for evermore,_

_Belle_

She fingered the rose in her pocket, and felt another petal come loose. It was already dying...

* * *

Adam stood over his desk. General Potts searched his pockets in the nearby armchair, and Adam was distracted as he thought of the time he had kissed Belle for hours there, eventually disrobing her and-

"You were saying...?" the portly general prompted, shoving his hand into his coat absentmindedly. Adam shook himself out of it, and frowned.

"Have you lost something again?"

"I believe I have... problem is, I can't remember what," the forgetful General sighed, then shrugged. "Anyway, more important things." He nodded to Adam expectedly, who coughed.

"Ah yes. I have a proposition, sir."

"Alright," the greying-haired man nodded, taking a sip of his tea. He was a friendly man; he and Adam had been long-time friends. Adam knew his wife as well, Elizabeth Potts, and they had hosted many dinner parties together, so it was safe to say Adam was one of Jean's favourite subordinates.

The blonde thought back to the letter from Belle, containing the new plan. _She's too intelligent for her own good, that woman_ , he thought fondly, and turned to Potts.

"We have someone who can give us the map of West Point."

Potts paused, and set his cup down. "Dear boy... you do realize what this means?"

"It could win the war for us," Adam nodded, "Yes. Which is why you need someone trustworthy to rendezvous." He gestured to himself, and Potts' eyes widened.

"Oh, no. Dear me, no. I will not have you caught and _hanged_ as a spy."

"They can't hang me if I'm not in my uniform," Adam pointed out. "They won't even know who I am."

"Adam..." Potts muttered, but Adam already had an idea. He needed to bargain for his own terms with Gaston when they met.

"I'm the only one who can handle this properly," Adam told his superior passionately, his eyes practically begging him, "You know that."

"You're also the best commander we've got- and head of intelligence," Potts scoffed. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Adam nodded in determination. "I swear by the love of a woman."

"Ah, so it's for a woman," Jean smiled a little.

"Isn't love at the heart of everything, sir?" Adam asked, and Jean sighed, thinking long and hard.

"I suppose I'd never hear the end of it if I refused you. But you don't stay there any longer than you need to- you get back here with those plans. And for Christ sake, don't let them catch you."

Adam smiled. Belle was so close, he could already taste her sweet lips again, see her face as she read her favourite book- what she would look like reading beside him in bed, as his wife. He could _see_ it.

He wanted it. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't hard for Belle to convince Gaston to give up the maps. All she had to do was massage his broken ego a little over the whole money problem, convince him the rebels didn't deserve him and he would be seen as a national hero if he won the war for the British, then bam- plans were already in motion to meet with someone on the enemy side.

"Apparently, his name's Major Bête," the brunette man told Belle over dinner one night, reading over a letter. Belle stilled.

"What did you say?"

"Bête's his name, the man they're sending in to meet with me," Gaston mumbled absently, drinking from his wine glass and signalling for more. Belle's breath caught. Adam was coming for the rendezvous? _But why?_ _Why him?!_ It was terribly dangerous!

 _What are you doing, Adam?_ she thought to herself.

"Why?" Gaston frowned. "Do you know the man?"

"O-Only that he's a vile, ill-tempered, beast of a man," Belle retorted, quite convincingly, "I've heard stories of soldiers who have served under him."

Gaston huffed. "Well, not every man can be as perfect as me, Belle."

"Quite right," the brunette gritted out, gripping her knife tighter than she needed to. "He had a thing for me."

Gaston looked up at this. "Oh?"

"Yes," Belle mused, "Told me he wanted my hand in marriage. I laughed in his face."

"Mmm," Gaston smiled smugly, "Best avoid those self important British soldiers. Think they can get any woman they want."

Belle had a very hard time not pointing out how hypocritical that statement was, so she just smiled tightly. "Of course."

Before long, the rendezvous point was set up. Belle wished she could do more than she currently was able, but it wasn't as if she could go along with Gaston to see Adam, so she stayed at home, worried sick.

When Gaston got to the small cabin, he saw the blonde waiting.

"Hello, Bête," he lifted his chin. "I'm Gaston."

"I know," Adam murmured, and rose, shaking his hand. "The maps, if you please."

Gaston held onto them firmly. "20,000. Upfront."

"General Potts is prepared to give you 10,000 and land in New York."

"I said 20,000 in my letter," Gaston growled. Adam eyed the fire in Gaston's stare, and knew this was the moment.

"I'll give you 20,000... if you give me Belle."

"What?" Gaston marvelled, caught off guard. He looked genuinely bewildered.

"I love her," Adam said, "I'll give you your money, but I want your engagement called off."

"I knew it," Gaston muttered. "I knew you wanted her." He laughed cruelly. "Did you honestly think she'd want you... when she's got someone like me?"

Adam clenched his jaw. "30,000. And land in Massachusetts."

Gaston's eyes widened. He would be the richest man in the colonies once the war was won- and remembered as a hero.

"Fine... Belle is yours," he muttered, though it pained him to give up such a prize. It was all well and good, though- at least he knew Belle didn't love Adam back. If she had, this would be a different matter; a matter of his own pride. "She's yours for land in Massachusetts _and_ New York."

Adam sighed. He would get in a lot of trouble from Potts for this, but-

"Done." They shook on it, and Adam obtained the maps, which he promptly folded and stuck into his boot. He then discarded his uniform jacket, slipping into an old, ratty cloak as a disguise to cross enemy lines.

"Be careful, Bête," Gaston sneered, "They're catching spies like flies in cobwebs out there in the dark." A wolf howled out in the distance, and Adam turned.

Meanwhile, Stanley rode as fast as he could to his lover's house. It was dark, and he was coming a long way from his post in Philadelphia to Boston to tell him, but this was imperative. He had accidentally overheard a conversation Gaston was having with Belle, and now...

"Lefou!" Stanley breathed, banging on the door. Lefou came downstairs in nothing but his nighty and knee socks, hair loose, and opened it.

"Stanley?" Lefou snaked a hand up the doorframe, striking a bit of a pose. "Came all this way for a little fun with me, darling?"

" _Lefou_ , _mon dieu,_ Gaston is a traitor!" He was out of breath.

Lefou's eyes widened, and he dropped the suggestive pose. "What?" It was as if his world was coming crashing down around him. The man he looked up to? The man he had fought beside? Killed beside? Gaston was a _god_ in his eyes, he couldn't have... "N-no, you must have... the wrong information, he..."

"Lefou, please, you must believe me," Stanley begged, taking his hands desperately, and Lefou hesitated. He had known Gaston all his life, and found this very hard to believe- then again, he knew his lover avoided theatrics when possible, and Stanley was currently in such a state it was impossible to brush off.

"I need my horse," Lefou muttered grimly, and tugged on a jacket.

* * *

Adam trekked through the woods, head down. The robe did a good job of concealing his identity, but he was still jumpy- anybody could be hiding behind these trees.

He began to daydream of Belle to pass the time on his hike. Getting letters from her was the highlight of his day- he could think of nothing else but getting her back in his arms, and he was so, so close. They could live in a huge castle, lord and lady of a great land in the reclaimed colonies- perhaps a southern piece, one in the Carolinas maybe, the weather is fairer down there. A few more hours of walking, and-

He heard whistling and talking in the distance, and quickly dashed behind a tree.

 _"Why're we being sent out to do all the dirty work?"_ one scowled.

" _Well, I wouldn't call patrolling the woods dirty work, Dick,"_ the other muttered, fixing his hat, _"There's guys like Gaston on the front lines fighting for us."_

"Gaston doesn't seem too hard done by, if you ask me," Dick grumbled, making it over the slight hill on the path, "He'll have a nice pretty little fiancé to warm his bed soon, and he'll fly above his station after the war- winning or not."

"Aye, but haven't you heard? Congress still won't pay him his dues," Tom mumbled, looking around, "He's pretty pissed off."

"He'll get over it," Dick rolled his eyes, "He whines and raises a fuss about one thing, then the day after he's all smiles and laughter."

"Lefou does a good job cheering him up," Tom shrugged.

"I bet he does," Dick chortled, and Tom smacked his shoulder.

"Don't be an arse. You know Lefou and Stanley..."

"Aye, of course I do," Dick waved it off, "Don't you say it out loud, lest you get 'em hanged."

Just then, Tom noticed a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned, squinting. "Speaking of hanging..." his mouth turned up a little in an intrigued grin, and he fingered his bayonet.

"What is it? You hear something?" Dick practically shouted, and Tom smacked him upside the head.

"Keep it down, will you?!"

Adam held his breath as he tried to shift out of view of the two behind the tree- this was life or death- and let out a breath of relief as they walked out of his view. _They hadn't found him-_

"Hide and go seek, eh?" Tom chuckled, startling Adam. He felt the tip of a bayonet blade at the back of his neck, and swallowed. "We're good at that game."

"Well, I was never really that good at i-" Dick began to mutter, but stopped as Tom glared up at him.

"Please," Adam said, holding out his hands, "I don't want any trouble."

Tom shrugged. "Hiding in the woods this close to a continental camp will get you just that, I'm afraid, lad. Out with it, then- you a ranger? Fisherman?"

Adam's eyes were wider than they should be, like a deer caught in headlights. They didn't recognize him. This could be his escape, thank god _, thank god._

"You caught me," Adam sighed, and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Smuggler."

"Ahh," Dick huffed a laugh. "That what you're hiding under that cloak of yours?"

"A-Aye," Adam decided to test out some of this American language he was hearing, "Tobacco leaves."

"Can you spare some?" Tom joked, and Adam let out a small, nervous laugh.

"Goodness, I'm afraid not. The man I'm trading with would be rather cross with me."

"You sound mighty British for these parts," Tom frowned a little, "We've all got the King's bloody accent, but you've got it thick."

"Ah yes, my dear mum was from London," Adam swallowed, trying to hide the fear in his eyes and the sweat on his palms, "I seem to have adopted her accent. Of course, when my father moved us over to the colonies, I've lost it a little- you should've hear it before, boys."

Tom and Dick laughed with him, and nodded.

"Well, we won't tell if you won't," Dick sighed, "You're just a smuggler- ain't even on anybody's side, it seems- nothin' wrong with passing through here to get a job done."

"I appreciate it," Adam tipped his hat. He kept on, picking up speed as he aimed to get as far away from the soldiers as he could as quickly as he could. Suddenly, Tom narrowed his eyes, and called on him.

"Oi! Smuggler!" Adam stopped in his tracks. He was far enough away to run, but if he did, his cover would be blown. Besides, these soldiers had probably loaded their guns.

"Yes?" Adam turned obligingly. The two men approached him again, and Adam tensed.

"You seem a little jumpy."

 _Think of something, think, think- if this was Belle, she would've come up with a whole story that no one would bother questioning._ "Just anxious to make my trade," Adam nodded with a small smile. _He was so close, he was so, so close to her-_

"You clean up awful nice for a smuggler," Tom muttered suspiciously, inspecting him. Adam felt along his face. Yes, he shouldn't have shaved this morning.

"Aye... now that you mention it, Tommy, look at these boots!" Dick observed, and Tom knelt down.

"Too fancy- take 'em off," Tom commanded, good natured smile gone, and Adam gulped again.

"Gentlemen, I-I don't see the need to-"

"Alright," Dick growled, "We'll do it for you." The two men grabbed Adam, two hands under his arms and two under his legs, slamming him to the ground. Adam shouted, but they easily pulled his boots off- and the map came fluttering out.

"Lord... who gave you this?" Tom muttered in astonishment, realizing what the markings were a map to.

Adam clenched his jaw. There was one more way out of this that he could implement that could save his cover. "General Deveneaux gave it to me."

Tom and Dick looked at each other, and burst out laughing. " _Gaston_ gave it to you?"

"Did..." Dick shook with laughter. "Did he tell you which colony you could keep with it too once Mad Georgie swipes 'em back with this?"

Adam looked down as Tom and Dick were killing themselves laughing, and suddenly thought of something he had learned through his position as head of intelligence- an undercover military group the patriots used in Vermont. Belle would be proud of his bright thinking today, that's for sure; what a good story this would be once he could see her again.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, taking off his hat, "I lied to both of you. I'm not a smuggler- I'm part of the militia. Green Mountain Boys?" Tom and Dick quirked their heads, so Adam went on. "Gaston wanted someone to ensure discreet, safe passage of this map to the next camp, and he entrusted me with the deed."

Tom scoffed, nudging his comrade. "How do we know you're not full of horse shit?"

Adam quirked an eyebrow, gaining more confidence now and a lot of his usual sass back. "Have them contact Gaston himself, why don't you? He'll sign off on any clearance he has to, and I can be on my way."

"Aye?" Dick scowled, "And who should we say you are in this letter we're supposed to write him?"

Adam blinked. "My code name's... Beast. The beast." His last name in English- Adam certainly hoped Gaston wasn't as dense as Belle described him, as his life depended on whether or not the General recognized that identification.

Tom and Dick looked at each other again, and shrugged.

"Whatever," Tom sighed.

"This shit's above our pay grade anyway," Dick murmured, and they both took a step to escort the blonde back to camp through the forest.

It was all fine; it would work out. All Adam had to do was keep his cool, and once Gaston had given him the okay, they would send him on his way, right back to deliver the map to the hands of General Potts.

* * *

Gaston stood at attention at the mouth of West Point. Washington was coming for a surprise visit today with some esteemed guests- an honour, despite the fact that Gaston had just given vital plans away to the British (and his wife, he observed in subdued irritation), not hours prior.

Belle stood beside him, presenting herself nicely in a simple blue and white dress as the high General himself dismounted, along with two others. Gaston had tried to get Belle to wear the yellow gown he had ordered for her for Washington's visit, but Belle had refused- she couldn't say it, but yellow was the colour of the gown she wore the night she met Adam.

The three men entered their commander's quarters house.  

"Ah! General Washington!" Gaston boomed.

"General," Washington nodded back, and they shook hands heartily. The one with a powdered white wig and brown mustache kissed Belle's hand.

"Enchante, Madame. Marquis de Lumiere at your service." He looked up, and they suddenly recognized each other.

"Lumiere?" Belle couldn't help blurting, and the Frenchman stared back at her with surprise. They had known each other through Adam and Adam's housekeeper, Plumette- Belle had no idea Plumette's husband was on the American side. Then again... the French had allied with the Americans, so it did make sense.  

"Mademoiselle," Lumiere marvelled. They looked into each other's eyes, and Belle's desperation was immediately picked up. Lumiere instantly knew he must not mention anything of the relationship between her and Adam that he knew of. His demeanor changed from that of surprise to amiability. "It is a pleasure to see you again, mon amour."

"How do you two know each other?" Gaston asked uncomfortably, watching the Marqui's flirtatious body language. Belle wanted to tell him that was simply how Lumiere carried himself, but refrained.

"We, eh... shared a dance one night at a gala!" Lumiere informed Gaston cheerfully, "Yes, she is extremely light on her feet, monsieur- you are a lucky man."

"Yes, I know," Gaston snapped, and Lumiere was bumped out of the way by a stingy, older looking fellow with a white wig as well.

"Major Cogsworth," he introduced himself with a little huff.

"Belle Deveneaux," she smiled.

"Charmed," he muttered, kissing Belle's hand, and she nodded. She then met the General, and they went into the parlor.

"Where's Lefou?" Gaston asked, pouring the brandy.

"Business in Boston," Washington informed him. _So, he was very busy shtupping Stanley_. Well, no matter. Gaston raised a toast.

"To victory," he boomed, and everyone echoed him. Suddenly, someone came in.

"S-sorry to interrupt, sir," a soldier, who couldn't have been more than seventeen, said, "An urgent letter from camp."

"Not now," Gaston growled, and Lumiere gestured to it.

"Oh please, monsieur, do not let us impede upon your duties!"

Gaston's lips settled into a firm line as he tried not to curse out the already irritating Frenchman, and he shared a distressed look with Belle. She was three steps ahead, as usual.

"Oh, you must see the drawings my father's done of the courts of Versailles!" Belle cut in with a charming smile, standing up. "He's an artist, you see, and he loves Paris." Washington smiled.

"Lead the way then, my dear. I do love Paris as well."

Gaston let out a breath, and once everyone had followed Belle, he opened the letter.

_We've got a man who calls himself 'the beast' here_

_Says he's militia_

_Need you to approve_

_-T_

Gaston read the letter over and over, and began to panic. They had caught Adam. There was no way out of this... it was both of their heads out on a platter now.

Unless....

Gaston chuckled to himself as he formulated another letter. If he turned Adam in as a spy, he could kill two birds with one stone- the blame would be shifted from him, and he wouldn't have to give up Belle.

He quickly wrote the letter, and gave it to the courier as Belle came back in with the men.

"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse us," Gaston said, "I need a moment alone with my wife."

Belle looked at him strangely, and the general took her hand, leading her to the back parlour.

"What's going on?" she hissed, "What was in the letter?"

"It doesn't concern you. All you need to know is-"

"Of course it concerns me, this entire thing was my idea!" Belle shot back, anger quite evident. Gaston sighed.

"Adam's been captured."

"What?" The colour drained from Belle's face.

"Yes, but it's all taken care of." He waved his hand, and Belle seemed to relax a little.

"Oh... you've told them he's not a spy, then?"

"No," Gaston was confused, "It's too messy now." He took her hands, rubbing them. "I'll have to give Potts the map myself- Adam will be tried as a spy."

"What?!" Belle shouted, ripping her hand away from his. Gaston drew back.

"I thought... you'd be pleased about this! You said he was-"

"Why would I be _pleased_?!" she shrieked, "You deceitful, underhanded-"

" _Shhh_ ," Gaston hissed, grabbing her and covering her mouth. She fought against him, but he just held tighter. Why was she on the offense about this?

Then it dawned on him.

"You were both in on it, weren't you?" Belle stopped fighting momentarily. Gaston's mouth opened. "My god, of course! You never loved me in the first place." He shook his head, sneering. "All this... for that monster?!"

"He's not a monster, Gaston," Belle spat, tearing away from him, " _You_ are."

Gaston's nostrils flared, then he gave a cruel smirk. "It doesn't matter now. He'll be hanged."

"Not if I get to him first," Belle shoved past the tall man, but he easily jerked her back to him.

"Ah ah ah," he narrowed his eyes, "What's a _woman_ going to do? Beg for mercy for Bête's life? Beg the executioner not to hang the rope?"

"I'll figure something out," Belle seethed, tears gathering, "I... we always do."

Gaston sneered at the word 'we.' "The only _we_ is you and me, _my love_. You'll never see your precious Major again."

"You won't get away with this, Gaston!" Belle cried. She could do something. There _had_ to be something she could do.

Just then, the door to the house flew open, and they heard Lefou's voice. Gaston frowned as he listened- and heard one exclamation from his oldest, and most loyal compatriot.

"Gaston's a traitor!"

He slammed a fist against the wall, and pushed Belle out of the way.

"Where are you going?!" she demanded.

"To General Potts myself," he growled, "It seems our little secret is out." Belle's eyes widened as Gaston opened the back door and ran for the boat, realizing she'd have to come up with a cover. They would be coming in any second... think, think...

"My husband!" she shrieked, "Oh no, oh _no_!"

They all rushed in, guns at the ready, but upon seeing Belle sobbing on the floor, they dropped them, helping her.

"Mademoiselle, are you alright?" Lumiere asked softly.

"He's... he's gone!" she wailed, running a hand through her hair wildly, "He ran off without so much as a few words! He's left me, oh, _ohhh_!"

"Do you know what's happened?" Lefou asked her kindly.

"He told me nothing!" Belle sobbed.

"Alright, let's get her upstairs," Cogsworth took her by the arm, "She's in hysterics."

"I'll find Gaston," Lefou whispered, and exited the back door. He ran the direction of the river bank, and finally found him, already rowing off with two soldiers he had obviously paid off.

"Gaston!" he cried, holding up his pistol. _He needed to shoot- he had a clear target, all he had to do was pull the trigger..._ "Please!" he called, "Don't do this!" Gaston turned to see Lefou holding up the gun, and smiled sadly.

"Sorry, old friend... it's hero time."

With that, they kept rowing, and Lefou aimed at the water, sending a shot cracking off its mark as he tossed the gun down in anger.

And he was gone.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Adam was going to die.

The next day, he sat in a tent with Washington, Lumiere, Cogsworth, Lefou, and Stanley. He had been held back and detained as a prisoner when the letter arrived from Gaston that he'd never heard of a "beast" or anyone like. Adam should have known that man would turn on him; he should have known he was the type not to be challenged.

He was going to die.

 At first, he had refused to believe he was out of options- there had to be some way out, there was always a way- but overnight, he realized somberly that there was absolutely nothing left for anyone to do now.

He was going to die.

It was all over so _fast_.

"The letter denies he knew you at all," Cogsworth was saying, "Of course, nothing Gaston says now could possibly have much merit, but nevertheless, you Adam, a British Major, were caught with our plans in enemy territory. That, by law, constitutes spying- the punishment for spying is death."

Adam was easily recognized by Washington, so the facade was over. "I fully understand what the punishment is, sir," Adam nodded. Lumiere gazed at him sadly, and Adam returned the look with a rueful glance.

"You will still be given a fair trial, monsieur," Stanley added, "We will give you a good lawyer... Monsieur D'Arque."

"I appreciate being treated so fairly," Adam said, looking up at everyone.

"Every gentleman deserves to be treated justly and humanely," Washington said, "And you, sir, are a gentleman."

Adam nodded in respect, and took a deep breath. "May I request one thing?" Washington nodded. "I'd like to send for my uniform. If it's going to happen..." _God, it felt surreal to say it. Yesterday, he was a free man, and today, there was no way out._ "-I'd like it to happen with dignity."

Lumiere got up, and exited the tent in a furious flourish. Lefou stared sadly after him, and sighed. Nobody in this tent wanted to Adam to die- who they really wanted to get their hands on was Gaston- but divine justice was a lie, as he had fled, and Adam had been captured.

And law was law.

Later that night, Adam sat down by candlelight in the tent he was being detained in. At least they had had the decency to put him up at the camp, guarded, instead of locking him up in a cell for his last night.

He took the quill out of the inkwell, and scratched something onto the paper.

_A single rose, a woman's face behind it with hair cascading down around the flower._

That night, he dreamt of her. Dreamt of the night they had met- the teasing glances they exchanged, until Belle had had the audacity to come up to such an elevated officer and ask him to dance.

He had been nervous at first- she was the most gorgeous woman there, and he hadn't danced in so long...

But it had been a magical waltz, and they never stopped looking into each other's eyes the entire time. Afterwards, Adam had taken her out to the veranda.

 _"I haven't danced in years,"_ he informed her _, "I'd almost forgotten the feeling."_

She had smiled a little _. "How did you learn?"_

_"I was given lessons since I was a young boy. Societal expectations, expensive education, and all that."_

_"My father taught me to dance. I used to step on his toes a lot."_ Adam had laughed, as had Belle. Their hands had grazed, and it was at that moment they knew, they couldn't be apart.

Adam swore to himself he would never forget that night- it was only right he would reminisce about it his last. He could never shake away the pain... he closed his eyes, and she was still there. She stole into his melancholy heart, and it was far more than he could bear.

But he knew she'd never leave him, even as she faded from view.

* * *

Belle cried into her father's chest. Maurice held her, petting her hair, and her chest heaved with every loud sob.

" _Shhh_... it's alright," Maurice whispered, "It's alright."

"It's all my fault, papa," she sniffled, eyes red, "I sh-should never have suggested it in the f-first place." Maurice knew the entire story by now, and it never failed to amaze him how brilliant his daughter was- he was surprised she didn't disguise herself as a man and join the ranks, although he didn't say this out loud, for fear she'd get any ideas.

"It's not your fault," Maurice sighed sadly, "This is war, Belle. Terrible things happen every day."

"But they weren't supposed to happen to us!" Belle choked. "The plan should have worked! It was _my_ plan... if not for Gaston..."

"Gaston is a terrible man, Belle," Maurice lifted her chin, gazing at her with gentle eyes, "The world is full of them. But you-" he prodded her shoulder, "You know how to deal with them. You know how to navigate this world."

Belle took a breath, and lifted her eyebrows. "How will I do it without Adam, Papa?" She sounded so small- as if, Maurice observed, she was five years old again and wondering how she would walk properly in a dress.

"Because you're my daughter," Maurice said firmly, grasping her shoulders, "And if I know my daughter, I _know_ you can." She sniffled again, more tears streaming down.

The rose had three petals left... she clutched it to her as she fell back into her papa's shirt, imagining his face, listening to his voice in her head.

_I haven't danced in years. I'd almost forgotten the feeling._

* * *

The next morning, Adam was presented with his uniform by Plumette, who had been brought out to deliver it. When she saw him, her lip quivered.

"Oh, Adam," she whispered, "Je suis tres, _tres_ desolee..."

She ran into his chest, embracing him, and he gave a sad smile, wrapping his arms around the beautiful lady. "Don't cry. It's alright." Lumiere quietly took his wife's arm, and she continued to cry into the Frenchman's golden clothing.

Lefou stepped in, regarding the gloomy scene. He had his curls up in a ponytail today, bouncing whenever he moved his head. His swinging curls reminded Adam of the rope that would be hanging for him, and he felt sick to his stomach.

Lefou felt as if he were intruding on a family tearfully departing for a trip overseas... but that's not what this was, and this had to be done.

"Major... when you're dressed, I'll escort you to the site."

 Adam nodded, then gave his friends one last nod as he was escorted out to the carriage, where Lefou was waiting to accompany him to the grounds.

_This was real. No turning back._

Lefou greeted him, and they began the long ride. The plump man pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket, and unfolded it.

"Oh, um... this was found in your chambers last night," he said, looking down at the rose, "It's an excellent likeness of a woman. She looks familiar, though," he tilted his head, inspecting it, "Care to tell?"

Adam's eyes closed, and he turned back. "Monsieur Lefou, allow me to take this opportunity to tell you; it's an honour to meet you." Lefou was visibly taken aback by this. "Along with Stanley, you're a formidable head of intelligence of the continental army. A worthy adversary, and from what I hear, a good man."

Lefou couldn't find the words. "Uh... I... t-thank you, sir." There was some silence. "You know... I think _you're_ an incredibly brave man. Sides behind us, what you did... what you risked for your country is astonishing."

Adam's eyes fell down to the page.

"I didn't do it for my country," the blonde mumbled, almost inaudibly. "I did it for a woman." He looked back up, then out the window. "That is the loss I regret... more so than my own life."

 Lefou studied Adam's features, and felt his heart break a little. He was obviously in love- he wondered who the woman was, and if she even knew what was taking place today.

"I know all too well how that feels," Lefou muttered. He did know how it felt. He had known all his life, ever since the first boy he had ever loved was imprisoned.

* * *

Belle stood at the site in the crowd, navy blue hood up. She couldn't be recognized, but she had to see him one more time to know that this was for real, and not all just a dream.

 As Adam exited the  coach, he took a deep breath. The somber marching drums and fife started, and Lefou walked up to wait at the cart. Everyone parted when Adam came through, the Major holding his head high. His hair was back in a neat bow, turquoise ribbon complimenting his blonde hair. He lifted his head even higher, eyes trained on the rope- inside, he was petrified.

Stepping up, he looked over to Lefou, who was standing amongst his comrades. He extended a hand, which Lefou shook respectfully. Sharing a nod, he then waited by the cart with the crowd behind him.

"The accused; Major Adam Bête- having been found guilty of espionage against America- shall hereby be executed as a spy."

As the sentence was read, Adam felt someone tug at his sleeve, and he turned.

"Belle!" he breathed, spirits lifting immediately. "You came back."

"Of course I did," she whimpered, taking his hands, "I'll never leave you again."

Adam stared at her sadly, then looked up at the rope. "I'm afraid it's... my turn to leave." Belle grasped his hand, unable, despite what she promised herself, to keep the tears from rolling.

"I wish..." she whispered, eyes desperate and searching.

Adam gazed back at her, clear blue eyes apologetic. Then, Belle lost his hand as Adam was taken from her up to the top of the cart, where he looked out at the crowd.

"If the accused has any last words- let him speak them now."

Adam took out the blue handkerchief that would cover his eyes, and felt the gravity of what was about to happen at last. This was it. He would be leaving Belle all alone- all for a stupid mistake they could have avoided if they had only run away together when they had the chance.

 _Screw the war._ He would've left, and he would've been able to be with her- eat messy soup with her, read through libraries with her, dance with her every night- but the rope was rough and unpleasant against his neck, everything Belle's soft hands weren't.

"No," Belle cried softly, looking up at him. "I lo-ove you." It felt as if all the air had been stolen from her lungs. She felt a hand on her arm, and turned to see Lumiere, gazing at her kindly. She took his arm, squeezing with one hand, as Adam spoke.

"Certain as the sun," he said, "Rising in the east." He looked straight at Belle, and Belle sucked in a breath- she wanted to do something, anything- pull him down, hold him up, kiss him, touch him, feel him, hold him.

They stared, the world melting away around them- she held the rose in her hands, one petal remaining, squeezing it, not feeling it. His lips whispered _I'm sorry_... his eyes screamed _I love you_. Lefou began to take notice of Adam's trained eye line. He followed it, and came to... was that Gaston's wife to be, Belle?

He gasped softly as he finally understood. _Adam and Belle..._ _my god._

The cart was pulled, and Adam's legs wriggled. Belle looked away, unable to watch, and buried her face in Lumiere's golden cloak. Cogsworth put a comforting hand on the shaking girl's back, rubbing up and down, and Plumette stroked her hair away from her tears. The rose she clutched in her hand lost its last petal, the red remains drifting to the frosted ground.

After a moment, Stanley and Lefou gathered by Adam, and tugged down, finishing the job promptly.

When it was all finished, Belle felt numb. She couldn't move- her legs wouldn't work. As she looked over, she saw Lefou approaching. Belle opened her mouth, finding the energy to move her lips.

"If this is news of my husband, I do-"

"This isn't about Gaston," Lefou mumbled, and slipped her something. "He drew this. For you."

Belle gasped, looking down at the rose on the paper.

"You should go," Lefou murmured as well, "Before, uh... before they find out."

Belle caught his meaning, and also understood what this meant for her. She couldn't hide in plain sight on the enemy's side any longer. Gaston was a turncoat, and she was still to marry him- in New York, where he would now reside.

 She could run away- her father had presented the idea, running to France before the wedding and just escaping it all.

But Belle knew she was meant for more than just sitting idly around during a war. She was to be the wife of one of the most influential men, and with that came great responsibility. To fighting for her country.

To Adam.

"I'm so sorry," Lefou offered, voice cracking. Belle refrained from telling the man before him that his superior officer, whom he worshipped so much, was behind this.

"Thank you," she murmured wearily.

"Are you going to escape to the hills then, Mademoiselle?" Lefou asked, looking down.

"No," she whispered, "I want adventure in the great wide somewhere. And for once, it was grand. To have someone understand... now that he's gone, I must finish what's been started." She turned, putting her hood up again.

The war was far from over.


End file.
